El Chapo - Mr. Criminal

On the rise like el Chapo

These foos can’t see me like el Chapo

From nothing to something like el Chapo

They want me dead or alive like el Chapo

I throw the West Side I’m like al rato

Been wanted since before I hit my teenage

Sharpening my skills ese look at what the streets made

A criminal at a young age because I couldn’t behave

A menace to society, is what my actions relay

Used to be stuck in the hood, homies free base

Now I got movie money, hundreds in the briefcase

Used to be in stolen Honda civics, in the courts

When I faced trial, the only time I prayed to the lord

Coupl-couple homies shot in the face next to me

Used to have street envy, way before I had jewelry

Before I had these albums out, before I had these movies

Used to hide in my closet in my dresser tec’s and uzi’s

Excuse me, is your name Roberto Garcia?

That was way before the L.A. fair jumped by maravilla

Way before my first cletcha, way before my first wila

Way before my first homie lost his vida

On the rise like el Chapo

These foos can’t see me like el Chapo

From nothing to something like el Chapo

They want me dead or alive like el Chapo

I throw the West Side I’m like al rato

For some reason, they wanna stop my cash flow

Been on my humble game, not trying to be no asshole

I pass those that grab those, like crabs in a bucket

I remember posted on the block, I would tuck it

And the cops used to hit my pad, nothing to discuss

I remember sergeant Johnson telling Lopez, go ahead cuff em

I remember them raiding, hiding stress in the oven

Stashing dope in the ceilings, even in my moms stuff

And I had nowhere to run, living all in the streets

The P.D.

had my name on a A.P.B., an all points bulletin

Cause I grew up as a hooligan, underestimated

All this banging shit would throw me in

Living life on the run wasn’t no fun, no food no soul

With some dope and a gun

Had to stay off the phone cause the landline was tapped

No matter where I was, was strapped

On the rise like el Chapo

These foos can’t see me like el Chapo

From nothing to something like el Chapo

They want me dead or alive like el Chapo

I throw the West Side I’m like al rato